Al-Tawhid, Journal of Islamic Thought,
Shawwal Dhu al Hijjah 1410, vol VII, No.
4
"Kashkul"
A Meeting with Imam Khumayni
Robin Woodsworth Carlsen met Imam Khumayni
during his third visit to Iran since the
Islamic Revolution. Earlier he had written
two books on Iran, the first, Crisis in
Iran: A Microcosm of the Cosmic Play,
after his visit following the capture of the
US spy-den in Tehran by the Muslim students,
and Seventeen Days in Tehran: Revolution,
Evolution and Ignorance (1980) after his
second visit. His third book about
revolutionary Iran, The Imam and His
Revolution: A Journey into Heaven and Hell
(1982) from which the following excerpt
describing the impressions of his meeting
with Imam Khumayni is taken, was written
following his third journey to Iran in
February 1982.
A philosopher and poet from Canada, he has
written numerous books and essays, some of
which are: Enigma of an Absolute: The
Consciousness of Ludwig Wittengstein, The
Wings of a Snow Man: Wallace Steven's 'Adagia'
With Commentary, The Discovery of Grace: An
Aesthetic Justification for God's Resistance
to Himself, The Cosmology of Christ:
Revelations of the Self According to the
Gospel of St. John, The Intelligence of the
Heart and Ceremonies of Innocence, the
last two being collections of his letters
and poems.
He has shown a remarkable perception—perhaps
unique among Western writers and
journalists—of the meaning of the Islamic
Revolution of Iran and the spirit that has
been determining the course of its
evolutionary ascent under thc leadership of
Imam Khumayni. Of course, the perception is
conditioned by his own past spiritual
development and training, as well his
aesthetic outlook on history, but his
account of experiences in Iran bears the
unmistakable stamp of spiritual clarity and
liberation, liberation from the idols of the
cave and the marketplace.
The impressions that Imam Khumayni made upon
this Canadian writer are by no means unique.
In fact what he describes is the experience
of thousands or perhaps millions of human
beings who have had an opportunity to
encounter the great charisma, charm, and
faith emanated by an authentic disciple of
Islam. Only that he has described it more
eloquently than others and so well that this
account represents an authentic historical
document and testimony.
Let us add that what this witness describes
is not merely an authentic account of an
encounter with an Islamic spiritual leader;
it is also an account of an encounter with
the spirit that moues the people of Iran,
the same spirit that was responsible for the
people's choice of this leader, the spirit
that followed his commands and exhortations
with singular devotion, the spirit that
established the Islamic Republic in Iran and
defends it against all kinds of satanic
aggressions and plots, the spirit that chose
Iran for starting its sacred work of
reshaping the destiny of humanity and moves
onwards. It is the spirit which leaves no
doubt in those who have encountered it that
no terrestrial power or force can hinder its
triumphant march, for it is the spirit of
human salvation and liberation. Yet this
heavenly spirit, so full of radiance and
glory, is invisible to the inhabitants of
the 'hell, ' who are unable to see it with
their eyes, but who feel its presence like a
terror in their hearts. We congratulate
Carlsen for possessing the purity of heart
and the clarity of vision for being able to
behold it so clearly and for being capable
of describing it so vividly. (Editor)
***
A Visit with Imam Khomeini
… The night of February 8 it was announced
that those invited to the conference would
be addressed by Imam Khomeini at his
residence in North Tehran. As soon as I
heard the confirmation of what had been
tentatively scheduled for any one day during
the several weeks when the conference was in
session, I immediately sensed the
significance of this event for myself, for
finally I would have the chance to measure
the worth of this man directly; he would be
held up to the scrutiny of my critical
spiritual sensibilities, ... for although
one cannot judge the inner state of
consciousness of an individual, one can at
least decide if there are some signs of a
personal performance that would lend some
credence to the nation of having achieved a
state of 'liberation' from the narrow
boundaries of the ego. There was just too
much vengeance, blood, and doctrinal
absolutism for me to finally assent to the
idea that Khomeini was an 'enlightened'
being, for although most reputed saints have
emerged from a tradition—that is, from an
organized, highly structured and antiquitous
system of worship and purificatory
practices—they are, when they have reached
the climax of their devotion, detached from
'politics,' from heavy involvement in the
surface appearance of life, from the rigid
ideological warfare and clashing of opinions
that dominate the more worldly individual.
Khomeini's embrace—unconditionally—of harsh
Islamic justice, for instance the stoning of
an adulterer, the severing of the hand of a
thief, and his violent denunciations of the
United States and the Soviet Union—his
attribution of all problems to the
conspiracies of imperialism—all this seemed
a little too one-sided and belief-ridden to
be the representations of a human being who
dwelled in the equanimity and putative bliss
of the Absolute, the state of permanent
freedom from the primacy of egohood. And
then there were the portraits on Time
magazine, the many depictions of the Imam,
especially during the hostage crisis and
even after the fall of the Shah: all these
suggested a morbid seriousness, a humourless
severity, and an apparent absence of
gentleness, playfulness, or—and this is most
important—compassion. The manifest
characteristic of the human personality that
had achieved some unity with pure
consciousness was the radiant reality of
love, the love that was simply the fact of
that harmony, the fact of that
non-separateness from and absolute
cooperation with the laws of the universe
that worked for the happiness of each
creature. This had been the measure of all
the great saints, whether Saint Francis, the
Buddha, Lao-Tse, or even the Sufis I had
read. Imam Khomeini was a symbol in the West
of the most obdurate atavistic pride and
implacable hatred. And even some Westerners
with whom I had talked who had met Khomeini
commented on his charisma, but in the same
breath remarked at the total absence of
humour or warmth in his demeanour.
Now I had the opportunity to judge for
myself.
A Lecture by Ayatollah Khomeini
Once on our way by bus to the Jamaran
residence (the hall where Khomeini was to
speak was connected to his house) there was
the buzzing excitation that indicated
something powerful was about to happen. For
myself I knew that I could trust my
intuition enough to determine whether
Ayatollah Khomeini was essentially good,
essentially bad, or an admixture. I also
sensed that something dramatic was to happen
to me, as if the psyche has a presentiment
of that which will radically affect one's
perception, one's experiences. I tend to
believe that something within Creation knows
what is about to happen, or rather that,
given the tendencies of a given situation,
some form of the reality that is imminent
(but unknowable to the individual) begins to
participate in the moment of experience even
before the important event has happened. In
other words there is the absence of time,
the present holds the meaning of the future,
especially the immediate future that is to
profoundly influence one's experience of
reality. If something remarkable is to
happen to one, the fact of that reality will
still be contained in the reality of
experience leading up to the experience
which has yet to happen. I knew that
whatever would happen in the hall where
Khomeini would speak, it would be tumultuous
and consequential; how could it be otherwise
in a situation in which one individual human
being embodied and dictated the intention
and the reality of a revolution? The
ambivalence, the ambiguity that I had
experienced in regard to the person of
Khomeini was about to be resolved: I would
know the essence of his motivation, the
essence of the claims of his countrymen as
to his spiritual greatness. The actual event
of his speaking followed inevitably from the
sequence of steps that started with the bus
ride to North Tehran through the various
checkpoints, and finally the entrance into
the hall. Since it was guaranteed that we
would see the Imam, the bus ride contained
the reality of that meeting, and therefore
the potency of this reality flowed into the
present experience of riding towards our
destination. In a sense I felt that all of
my speculations, hunches, concepts of the
revolution would dissolve in the face-to
face encounter with the leader of that
revolution. I was not disappointed.
There were at least five or six checkpoints
at which we were frisked for any weapons or
object that might be used to threaten the
life of the beloved (and hated) leader of
Iran and the Islamic Revolution. Nothing—no
pencils, no cameras, no object of any
kind—were permitted to be taken past the
first checkpoint. As we walked briskly
through what seemed a labyrinth of alleys
there was the sense of the eagerness with
which each invited individual was insuring a
suitable view of the speaker—in other words,
I was aware that many of us were walking
quickly to obtain the best seats. And while
we walked I couldn't help but notice the
brightness, the alertness, the liveliness in
the air itself; this was a very different
part of Tehran; it had a humming energy, a
vitality, a special kind of consciousness.
Was this due to the actual reality of this
person called Ayatollah Khomeini, or was it
due to the attitude that characterized the
people's estimation of Khomeini? I felt at
the time it could be both, since again I
determined that something was indeed
objectively different about the space we
were entering. This was the centre of the
opposite of apathy and lassitude that I had
found on the street of Tehran; here in the
lanes leading up to the lecture hall in the
early morning—it was about eight
o'clock—hundreds of Revolutionary Guards,
ordinary citizens, and clergymen were all
part of the corridor of guardians and staff
who orbited around the sun of Khomeini. I
could see that they relished their work,
that this was where (as well as in the midst
of battle) the revolution manifested its
living force. Indeed I thought that we were
approaching the very source of the
revolution, so harmonized did the climate of
feeling seem in conjunction with the
principles, the mythological realities of
the revolution.
Now the reader should realize at this point
in my story that I was well aware of all
those things attributed to the regime, and
especially the authority of the Imam: the
brutal torture, the thousands of executions,
the raping of women prisoners, the
resuscitation of SAVAK; the abolishment of
music, dance, and any offending aesthetic or
recreational activities that are accepted as
normal in the modern world; the killing of
young children, the shooting of high school
girls, censorship of the press, the cruel
campaign of murder and desecration of the
Baha'i community, the refusal to permit
Amnesty International to enter Iran, —in
short the systematic and violent overthrow
of all semblance of democracy, the
instituting of a system of rule that
compared unfavourably with the Shah even at
his worst. I had heard all these things; I
had even heard these things from people
whose integrity and credibility I could not
doubt. Iran was in a state of vicious
madness and the source of the evil
repression was none other than the person
whom I was to see perform and later meet.
Before the shifting towards a concerted
campaign against all 'opponents' of the
regime (which had caused this increased
hostility against him), Ayatollah Khomeini
had been the object of extreme hatred in the
United States for being linked intimately
with the seizing of the innocent American
diplomats. Then there were still many forces
in Iran who supported Khomeini; now,
however, in the wake of the executions and
persecution of opponent of the regime the
hatred of Khomeini has been entrenched even
in the hearts of many who had fought against
the Shah, Iranians who had even served in
the provisional government, who had, in
fact, been loyal to Khomeini up until the
last aix months. Now I was to see in the
flesh the personage whose will had dominated
Iran, whose policies (although attributed to
God) had caused so much disruption in Iran
and had drawn so much negativity from the
West.
I secured a seat at the front of the hall;
Khomeini's chair, draped with a white sheet,
was situated on a stage above us at least
fifteen feet from floor level. A
white-bearded mullah surveyed us as we
entered the hall, and adjusted the
microphone, waiting patiently for the sign
that the Imam would be coming through the
closed door to the right of the stage upon
which he would give his lecture. The hall
was redolent with whispered expectation, and
from time to time certain Muslims would
shout a slogan or a passage from the Qur'an
and would then be joined by the hundreds of
other Muslims and Revolutionary Guards who
were in attendance. No smoking was allowed
inside the hall and the reverence that was
predominant in the attitude of all those
waiting for the Imam's entrance made this
scene one in which the usual smells and
ambience of Iran were significantly altered.
Even as I looked up at the stage at the
place where Khomeini had given hundreds of
speeches my eyes registered the physical
calm, the physical purity, the physical
freshness that hovered, or rather collected
in a block of solid, translucent energy that
seemed in such contrast to the hotel we had
been in, to in fact every other environment
I had been in two trips to Iran. Even the
mosques did not radiate this quality, this
wholeness of energy. Could the Imam after
all be an enlightened human being, a true
Sufi—or perhaps even more? All signs
indicated that something was urged to
happening in this hall that transcended
anything in Iran that happened outside the
hall— the only feeling that seemed at all
familiar with this feeling was the war front
and then when I had walked through Beheshte
Zahra Cemetery. I could only account for
this by assuming that perhaps martyrdom was
real, that the sudden and sanctified
splitting of the soul from the body,
carrying that soul up into heaven because of
the intention of the martyr, has created an
energy that was holy, an energy that was
blessed by Allah Himself. Whatever was the
case the atmosphere where Khomeini's chair
sat was radiant and alive. Harmony, not
hatred, dominated here.
While we waited for the Imam, a parade of
Lebanese Palestinian children whose parents
had been killed in Israeli bombing attacks
(and who had been adopted by the Iranian
government at the behest of Khomeini)
marched into the hall singing in Arabic
various songs about the revolution. They
stood in front of us just below the stage,
looking slightly more bewildered than the
hundreds of Iranian students from the
Islamic high schools that had marched and
shouted for us. They had been invited to
listen to the Imam, and in their
yachting-like uniforms (blue caps, white
dress) they patiently stood, while their
teachers organized their chanting and their
positioning. Each day, apparently, Khomeini
met with individuals and groups associated
with the running of the revolution. He was
especially interested in those children
whose parents had been killed in refugee
camps by strafing Israeli jets. They
constituted the oppressed, the people who
suffered innocently at the hands of the
aggressors; they were thus specially suited
to the categories of moral judgement of
Islam and the revolution. Only another
manifestation of evil could have created
these orphans; the Palestinians were the
victims of American imperialism, since it
was American weapons that had drawn the
blood of the fathers and mothers of these
children. Everything was separated into good
and evil; each struggle in the world fell
into the categorization of the oppressed
fighting against the oppressors. These
Lebanese children were symbols of that
struggle, were symbols for the moral
distinctions necessary to uphold the
revolution and maintain its absolutist
basis. Without the reality of evil, one
cannot posit the existence of its opposite:
good. The Iranians themselves might not be
qualified to call themselves pure, but their
Islamic motivation was pure, and the enemy
certainly was evil. How could it be that it
was anything but God that would oppose evil;
since evil existed, what countered it was
good. The Iranians had been taught to think
in this way by their leader, nothing, not
the distinctions of Ebrahim Yazdi, nor the
resistance of the Mujahideen could deter
those supporters of the "Line of the Imam"
from sticking to these black and white
categories of judgement, for only in this
way could the allegory of good versus evil
be enacted.
We were there for about forty-five minutes
before there were signs that the Imam was
about to make his entrance. The signal was
clear; several other turbaned 'ulama emerged
from the door and indicated to the mullah
who was waiting on stage that the chieftain,
priest, holy man commander and Imam was on
his way. At the appearance of Khomeini in
the doorway everyone jumped to his feet and
began shouting, "Khomeini!" "Khomeini!"
"Khomeini!" in the most vibrant athletic,
rejoicing, militant tribute that I had ever
witnessed for another human being. Everyone
seemed completely taken over by the
spontaneous surge of love and adulation, and
yet there was the proclaiming with every
cell of their heart the absolute confidence
that what and who they were honouring was
worthy of such honour in the eyes of Allah.
Indeed I would say that the explosion of
ecstasy and power that greeted the Imam was
itself not so much a simple reflex based
upon a fixed idea of the Imam; it was rather
the natural and exuberant hymn of praise, of
celebration that was demanded by the very
majesty and overpowering charisma of this
man. For once the door opened for him I
experienced a hurricane of energy surge
through the door, and in his brown robes,
his black-turbaned head, his white beard he
stirred every molecule in the building and
riveted the attention in a way that made
everything else disappear. He was a flowing
mass of light that penetrated into the
consciousness of each person in the hall. He
destroyed all images that one tried to hold
before one in sizing him up. He was so
dominant in his presence that I found myself
organized in my sensations by that which
took me far beyond my own concepts, my own
way of processing experience. I had
expected—no matter what the apparent stature
of the man to find myself scrutinizing his
face, exploring his motivation, wondering
about his real nature. Khomeini's power,
grace, and absolute domination destroyed all
my modes of evaluation and I was left to
simply experience the energy and feeling
that radiated from his presence on the
stage. A hurricane he was, yet immediately
one could see there was a point of absolute
stillness inside that hurricane; while
fierce and commanding, he was yet serene and
receptive. Something was immovable inside
him, yet that immovability moved the whole
country of Iran This was no ordinary human
being; in fact even of all the so called
saints I had met—the Dalai Lama, Buddhist
monks, Hindu sages—none possessed quite the
electrifying presence of Khomeini. For those
who could see (and feel) there could be no
question about his integrity, nor about the
claim, however muted by people like Yazdi,
by his people that he had gone beyond the
normal (or abnormal) selfhood of the human
being and had taken residence in something
absolute. This absoluteness was declared in
the air, it was declared in the movement of
his body, it was declared in the motion of
his hands, it was declared in the fire of
his personality, it was declared in the
stillness of his consciousness. There was no
mystery about why he was so loved by
millions of Iranians and Muslims throughout
the world and he demonstrated, to this
observer at least, the empirical foundation
for the notion of higher states of
consciousness. Yes, the severity, the
humourlessness, the absolutist judgement was
apparent; yet given the circumstances within
which he was placed, there was the
affirmation of appropriateness in his every
gesture and aspect. This was the most
extraordinary person I had seen.
At first he did not speak; another
religious leader addressed the audience,
Khomeini sitting in a kind of immaculate
silence and perfect equilibrium. He was
motionless; he was detached; he was in an
ocean of peacefulness; and yet something was
in pure motion; something was dynamically
involved; something was ready to wage
constant war. He dwarfed all those people
whom I had met in Iran; he dominated the
stage even while the other mullah spoke. All
eyes were on Khomeini, and there was not the
slightest trace of egotism, of
self-consciousness, even, if I can say it,
of inner dialogue or random thinking. His
whole being focused relentlessly yet
spontaneously on the point of concentration
that aesthetically and spiritually fitted
into the dramatic scene we were witnessing.
Despite the fierce intention, the absolute
sense of uncompromising rectitude, there was
yet the sense of something perfectly
effortless and smooth that dictated the
manifest movements of his hands, the sound
of his throat clearing, the focus of his
attention. Here hundreds of patriots and
Muslims had shouted his greatness, had sworn
their love, their absolute adulation; yet
while receiving all this he remained within
himself, he remained unmoved; he remained in
the dignity of some imperturbable inner
state that was beyond the boundaries of a
causation that I was familiar with.
The reader may wince at the extravagance of
my description of this man; he must know,
however, that despite everything that I had
heard, despite the contradictory evidence I
had received before (the seeming violence of
the rhetoric, the lack of creative
playfulness and so on), the actual and
immediate impression of what Imam Khomeini
was had nothing to do with some sort of idea
or concept. The experience was too
overpowering for that. Imagine for a moment
the pushing of the body of oneself out of
one's mother's womb, or the moment when one
might awaken to the fact that one was being
created inside a foetal body, or the moment
when one was conscious of dying, or the
moment when one first discovered the power
of egos: these experiences have as their
basis a primary determinant outside of the
frame of reference the individual; what is
dominant is the intrinsic nature of the
reality which is giving birth to the
experience. Such is what happened on the
morning of Wednesday, February 9th, 1982 in
North Tehran. The subjectivity of the
experience seemed to be objectified by
something that was at the very basis of my
consciousness; I transcended the mode of
experience that normally determined what
sensations, thoughts, feelings constellated
into my awareness of self. Khomeini was that
powerful; Khomeini was that strong; Khomeini
was that egoless and invincible
In a moment I saw all the impulses of the
revolution, the whole history of the
overthrow of the Shah, the rhythms of
martyrdom, the bygone Islamic civilization
that had temporarily overshadowed the West:
all of this was contained in the presence of
this man. He was the source of the revival
of Islam, he was the source of the
revolution, he was the source of whatever
power this revolution and Islam represented
to the world. Without him I am certain the
monarchy would still be in place and Islam
would be effectively eliminated as a factor
in the political destiny of the Middle East.
Once seeing Khomeini I questioned whether
even the revolution in Iran would survive in
its vitality and coherence for it seemed
pretty obvious that all inspiration was
derived from Khomeini's leadership. Khomeini
was the revolution. Those given the
awareness or feeling to know what he
represented (the wholeness of life biased
through Islam) could not help but be filled
with the fervour of Islam, the blessed
confidence of martyrdom, the determination
to spread Islam to the world. He uplifted
and transformed; this was done not through
some projected idea of his charisma; it was
done by the actual material of life; it was
accomplished through the intention of that
which had created this whole drama. No,
Khomeini was at the centre of this Islamic
eruption; Khomeini was the fountainhead of
the spiritual power that flowed into the
hearts of Muslims throughout the Middle
East—at least those Muslims who
instinctively were close to the heart of
Islam.
He did not smile once; his face was
implacably set in the resolution of his
will; God demanded everything from him; he
had given his life to serving God. There was
nothing to laugh at, to be amused at, to
wonder about; his course had been set and he
was in the determined consequences of that
course: to bring Islam into the prominence
which its divine genesis had portended. He
lived for Islam; he had become the
instrument of Islam; he had no purpose but
the enactment of Islam. His individuality
seemed merged with the universality of his
higher purpose. I detected no mental
entropy, no inner reactions to his
environment; no, there was only the
inevitable pattern of duty that placed him
into the servitude of Allah. Of course
neither science nor psychology could verify
these observations; they entirely escaped
the instruments, the diagnosis of
experiential reality; nevertheless one might
suspect that his brain waves would yield
readings of hemispheric coherence not
typical of those of us still in the normal
grip of conflict, ambivalence, and
insecurity. Physiologically, octogenarian
that he was, there was the impression of
soundness, of efficiency, of non-wasted
energy and performance. Everything he
did—from the motion of his hands to the
opening of his mouth to the sound of his
words—was under the aegis of one ordering
intelligence. He was totally non-divided; he
gave the sense of someone who had not only
mastered himself but was himself now the
servant of another master, and one can only
assume that he had either hallucinated
himself into the experience of submitting to
God, or that indeed he had achieved that
permanent grace that was the subject of my
controversial discussion with Ebrahim Yazdi
and the Lebanese professor. Here he was,
perhaps the most hated man of post Hitler
civilization, yet one saw him as being
utterly undemagogic; one saw him as—at the
very least—an Old Testament prophet, an
Islamic Moses come to drive Pharaoh from his
lands (Pharaohism being expressed in all
those values and activities that ignored the
reality and pre-eminence of Allah).
Despite the hatred (and I thought of all
the millions of people who had gone through
many days of their lives during the hostage
crisis filled with negative thoughts about
"The Ayatollah"—how the most powerful
hostility had focused itself on him) he yet
appeared untouched by this destructive
energy. He had been strong enough to survive
it; he had been perhaps strong enough to be
chosen to release it; now he was hated even
more for thousands, perhaps millions, of his
countrymen— not to mention Saddam Hussein
and the monarchs of the region—now turned
against him. I intuited that the very hatred
directed against him had in fact
strengthened the revolution, had in fact
made him that much more powerful; he did not
live for the approval of others, he did not
live to be a hero; he did not live for any
personal satisfaction; he lived for the
truth he experienced in the laws of Islam,
in the revelations of the Prophet, in the
happiness and immortality that could be
achieved through Islam.
All this will seem preposterous to most of
those who read this book, and yet the
clarity with which these impressions
asserted themselves made them self-evident
and as truthful as the awakening from a
dream. Khomeini was for real, and the
projection of the personal, or I should say,
impersonal presence of Khomeini diminished
the impression of any other political leader
I had seen. He might be the enemy of
pluralistic values; he might be the enemy of
individualist freedom; he might be the enemy
of democratic government; he might be the
enemy of the metaphysics of variable
subjectivity (i.e. the universe of the
individual); but one could not deny that,
despite his severe countenance and the rigid
and inflexible values and laws for which he
stood, he was, for all that, the most
towering force of wholeness and integrity;
he was a microcosm of Truth as it passed
through Islam. He was not someone with whom
one could discuss the meaning of individual
choice, or the sensuous beauty of ballet,
but he was yet the most formidable human
being on the stage of international
politics, and he seemed, at least from my
vantage point, to be easily a contemporary
of Christ himself, not that Khomeini would
ever compare himself with Christ—but he
radiated that same uncompromising integrity
and one-pointed intention. How was it that a
human being who had not tasted the variety
of human experience, how was it that a human
being who denied the experimental riches of
personal freedom, how was it that such a
person could contain, could embody so much
of the order of the universe itself. Well,
for those readers who find the apologetics
of stoning to death adulterers a trifle
disconcerting—or the execution of
homosexuals— the description and
interpretation I have given may seem the
most inflated form of self-distorting
perception. Nevertheless I wish to make it
clear that one must—at least for purposes of
drawing some conclusions about this
revolution and the adamantine love in which
Khomeini is held by over half of his
countrymen—separate the ideological
statements of Khomeini from the spontaneous
measure of the man's stature as a human
being. His stature is not so much derived
from his words, nor his authority, but from
the living expression of his being, from the
very way in which the universe reacts to the
organized form of his personality. For all
his extremist rhetoric, for all his
bitterness towards the United States, for
all his cursing of the West, he still
transcends the content of his words, the
content of his writings; what is primary is
the elemental grace that floods into one's
heart with the slightest intention to open
oneself to the naturalness of one's
experience. A film or theatre director, if
he were to view the performance of Ayatollah
Khomeini would say this was the one actor
who could play the role of a Messiah—or the
Twelfth Imam, so magnificent was his stage
presence, so absolute was the sense of his
confidence, so unalterable was his will.
And yet I must go further: Imam Khomeini
broke into my heart and my brain with a
current of emotion that I can only describe
as extreme positivity, what I prefer to call
'love'. Yes, despite his call for Islamic
executions (and in his very speech that day
he called for a pardoning of thousands of
prisoners who were amenable to change of
allegiance), his unwavering stemness of
mien, his invulnerability to individual
feeling, he was charged with a love that
actually seemed to purify my heart, to fill
it with a bliss that I had not known before.
Even while he just sat there—before he
spoke, while one of the mullahs gave the
predictable tirade against the superpowers,
the predictable paean to Islam—I found
myself gazing upon his face (and the light
that surrounded him) and at the same time
being filled up with that energy that I
associated with the most vital kind of
creativity and power. He was a generator of
the energy and feeling that overwhelms the
heart and cleanses the—if I may say it—soul.
I had wanted to retain my disinterestedness,
my critical detachment when seeing the Imam.
I had known myself to be not capable of
being dominated by another human being; I
had taken a certain amount of satisfaction
in knowing that my inner integrity could not
be disturbed by some experience outside of
myself. yet here I was losing the boundaries
of my own individuality; here I was
discovering feelings and refined sensations
that had been unknown to me. Here I was
being filled up by a mad Muslim holy man,
the individual who was thought least likely
perhaps in the whole world to be capable of
conferring upon a Western journalist the
sense of divine happiness, divine clarity of
awareness. But this was my experience; Imam
Khomeini was experienced to be that singular
reality which could expand my consciousness,
purify my heart, clarify my brain, and leave
in his wake the sense of an undiminishable
grace, a grace that somewhere I still carry
with me, however overshadowed it might be by
present preoccupations.
Feeling the energy of Beheshte Zahra
Cemetery had drawn out pure emotion from me;
here in the presence of the fierce
embodiment of militant Islam I had reached
the flowering of my own individuality, the
vision of bright integrity that reached up
towards heaven itself. There were no
metaphors for the sense of reality that
swept over me, and it can only be carved in
the memory of the universe that what I saw
that day, what I experienced in my heart—the
meaning that articulated itself
spontaneously and irrevocably in my soul—was
the single most important fact of this
revolution, but more still, the single most
important fact about existence itself. A
human being could after all achieve a
greatness that proclaimed contact with a
Creator. Imam Ruhullah Al-Musavi Al-Khomeini
might be declared insane, a monster, a
killer, an enemy of freedom and light; he
was nevertheless a supreme testimony to the
power of man to achieve a perfect integrity,
and within that integrity, the most awesome
kind of personal beauty and grace. Since
Khomeini was indeed a man of God, since
Khomeini did embody the truth of Islam,
since indeed Khomeini deserved to be loved
with Shi'a martyrdom passion, it behooved us
on the outside to try to understand this
revolution and to see why it might be
possible that God would visit such a reality
upon us. The reality I have described here
is the reality that is at the very centre of
the future of the Middle East. I believe
that until someone can recognize the truth
of what I have written here, he or she
cannot comprehend the design of destiny, nor
the forces that now shape the events of the
Middle East. The face of Jerry Falwell in
comparison to the face of Ayatollah Khomeini
is for me the difference between the pudgy
Bible salesman and John the Baptist.
Of course since there is no consensus about
the nature of God, or in fact whether He
even exists, therefore there is little
chance that there can be any sort of
significant agreement about whether He is
found manifesting in the consciousness of a
human being, the one creature in this world
whose nervous system would seem capable
(because of its self-conscious reflectivity)
of conveying or embodying the finest
expression of intelligence. If God is
anything He is Intelligent. The accounts of
Christian mystics, the saints of the East,
and of course the Sufis (not to mention the
prophets) make it quite clear what the
evidence of a God-shaken, God-possessed
human being is: the actions of such an
individual are taken over by an intelligence
that seems to be computing the activities of
the larger world; the specific and localized
ego of such an individual no longer
determines or controls the actions which
flow from his or her individuality. That
individuality has been universalized and the
physical, mental, and emotional character of
such an individual must necessarily reflect
the universal reality now embodied in his or
her consciousness. Did Imam Khomeini fit
this description, these criteria?
So much did he conform to these standards
that even if one did not have any religious
frame of reference, or any kind of
touchstone for the mystical, the
transcendental, one would still witness a
torrential energy, an unshakable stillness,
and an indefatigable love and compassion.
Yes there was the austere, unrelenting point
of concentration in his countenance, but
even if ignorant of its cause, one still
sensed the oughtness of this expression:
i.e. its configuration, its character was
being determined by Necessity. True, if one
has achieved a state of equilibrium with the
Divine such that one's resistance to the
force of God's intelligence no longer exists
(the false ego has been annihilated) then
the method through which such a state has
been achieved will be reflected in the face,
in the personality of the individual.
Ayatollah Khomeini's march towards the
realization of his own unbounded nature the
awakening of himself to pure consciousness,
to the Absolute, had not been through
effortless pleasure, through some simple and
natural technique of transcendence; no, it
had been achieved through the most
indomitable, titanic will, through the most
exacting and unswerving devotion to the
rules and ceremonies of Islam. One
experienced, in looking up at him, how
Khomeini had as if from the first breath he
drew as an infant, been one-pointedly living
his life for the highest purpose and within
the most universal tradition. Like the
famous saints of India, he had, right from
the beginning, sought enlightenment giving
up all the idle pleasures of youth to
concentrate his intention upon the goal of
all human life, the fully realized Self. His
individuality was still there, and that
individuality because of its conditional and
contingent nature, could not be made of the
Absolute however his individuality was now
held inside that absolute, now had its
purpose in serving that absolute, and my
impression was that I had never seen such an
uncompromising expression of the Absolute...
If Khomeini, who is viewed as the examplar
of Islam, as the most realized of all
Muslims living in the world, as the shadow
of the Twelfth Imam —if such a person as he
has not reached that "absolute light"
where one is "effaced in God" how can we
believe the Imam when he promises that Islam
and the Prophets existed for this very goal?
The Imam may, for obvious reasons, draw
people's attention away from the notion of
his own successful inner jihad, but the very
fact that he allows his portrait and his own
reputation to stand as being the supreme
expression of this revolution is a tacit
admission that he has in fact achieved this
state in which he, as a drop, has merged
into the Absolute(Allah), the ocean, The
clue to the sternness, the sense of
implacable will and hardness in his face is
the fact that the means to this goal have
come about through a perpetual jihad, which
is "inconceiveable unless a person turns his
back on his own desires and the world."
Khomeini has defined "the world" in the
context of this analysis as "the aggregate
of man's aspirations that effectively
constitute his world, not the external world
of nature with the sun and the moon, which
are manifestations of God. It is the world
in this narrow, individual sense that
prevents man from drawing near to the realm
of sanctity and perfection.
We agree that coming close to and
eventually reaching God must be, if there is
such a thing as God, the highest pursuit of
man, since this logically is what God seeks
for man, this logically, because it ends in
deathlessness and bliss, is what man seeks
for himself. Khomeini in one of his speeches
relates a tradition of the Prophet:
When anyone leaves his home, migrating to
God and His Messenger, and then overtaken by
death, it is incumbent on God to reward him.
However, it is obvious that in order to
reach this goal much has to be sacrificed.
The goal is the completion of man for the
source of "all true knowledge" dwells there,
and "objective reality belongs exclusively
to that light"; "our origin is that light."
God, it would seem, rewards us with the
summit of His love only if we prove we are
willing to forego so many of the experiences
that He has made available to man on this
earth. And this is the source of an earlier
denunciation of Khomeini's puritanism as "a
joyless and morbid devotion to a God who
demands constant sacrifice." Khomeini has
interpreted the will of God through the
Qur'an, through the principles of justice of
the Prophet and the Imams; there is no
suggestion that one could achieve the climax
of Being through some path or system of
devotion that did not demand "constant
sacrifice." Now whether it is true that God
ultimately has created this universe solely
to have man transcend it, and much of man's
earthly pleasures to ensnare him, to tempt
him into sin, is a question presumably only
answerable by God. In my own intuition about
this matter I believe there may be ways
towards God (the Absolute, the Divine
Essence) which may be more compatible with
the desires of man, which may not demand
such control and discipline. One thing is
obvious, however: Imam Ruhullah Al-Musavi
Al-Khomeini has achieved his goal, since
although he still strived for the perfecting
of his own country and the establishment of
the primacy of Islam throughout the Middle
East (and of course the world) he was
entirely detached from all inner anxiety,
inner turmoil, inner strife. The profound
discipline and austerity of his whole life
might reflect itself in the adamantine
features of his character and even his face,
but the magnificence of the fullness that
had overtaken his whole being left no doubt
about the reward, nor the reality that now
was his. From this writer's perspective Imam
Khomeini radiated everything promised in the
scriptures of Islam, and that which he
radiated was what was absolute in this
universe. It was the source of the
universe—biased as I have said, through the
idiom of Islam—that directed the course of
the revolution; it was the source of the
universe that determined the adoration of
the people; it was the source of the
universe that directed the resurgence of
Islam. However much we in the West might
decry Khomeini, however much Khomeini's
countrymen—many in exile—might condemn, and
attempt to destroy this revolution, and
however much even persons such as Ebrahim
Yazdi might issue their very qualified
approval of what was happening in Iran, the
primary impulse was being directed by
something absolute, as that Absolute passed
through the person and consciousness of
Ayatollah Khomeini. All his writings, his
speeches, and now this performance (as I
said, one didn't even have to listen to the
content of this present talk) pointed
towards the confluence of the successful
outer jihad and the successful inner jihad.
Imam Khomeini was the embodiment of that
fusion (the establishment of an Islamic
Republic, the conquering of external
enemies, the victory of Islam in other parts
of the world—and the establishment of that
inner condition of integration and union
which was the victory of the higher self
over the lower self, and the mergence of the
individuality into God); this revolution was
the enactment of that fusion. To doubt
Khomeini's state of consciousness, or his
understanding of and devotion to Islam was
to entirely miss the essence of this
revolution and the future of Islam in the
Middle East. I, who could not surrender my
own intuition of the more cooperative,
intrinsically supporting nature of the
universe towards the completion and
fullfilment of itself within the microcosm
of man (and thus the final and essential
justification for the primary impulse of
Western civilization with its emphasis on
and over-glorification of the individual and
the uniqueness of the personality), could
not become a Muslim, could not join in the
sweeping, bitter castigations of Western
values and metaphysics, and could not even
recommend that all of humanity submit to the
rigours of Islam. Nevertheless I had to
admit that the figure of the man before me
in this hall was the figure of a man who
enjoyed the total blessings of God, and
because he had given up so much, because he
had lived his life in absolute devotion to
God, his stature seemed to participate in a
glorious power, beauty, and dignity that I
knew might quite well be denied the
individual who achieved—if this were indeed
possible—the same goal through means not as
demanding and austere. I knew that Khomeini
was confronting all the evil in the world,
and through Islam something was taking place
that would forever alter the direction of
the script: Imam Khomeini was the
counterpoint to brutal secularism, indulgent
hedonism, and obsessive egoism, traits that
dominated the West. Whether one believed in
Islam, however, or whether one agreed with
Imam Khomeini's revolution or its policies,
or whether one indeed even believed in God,
one would have been impervious and crude
indeed if one were unable to receive some of
the overflowing love, strength, purity, and
grace that was the very essence of the man
of eighty-one years who began now to speak
to us effortlessly, without the slightest
harshness of voice, with an almost melodic
tone, with all the stillness and vibrancy of
the universe itself breathing itself through
his being. All the paradoxes I have
described were there: the harshness, the
serenity; the austerity of expression, the
richness of compassion; the absolute
rigidity of will yet an apparent infinite
flexibility of suggested power; total
concentration yet complete detachment. It
grieved me to know that this
secret—recognizing the nearness to or
distance from God of another human being—was
denied to virtually all politicians of the
world, not to mention the Western media. I
was either hopelessdly insane—or so were all
the mystics, saints, sages, and prophets
—for the experience here overwhelmingly
declared the supreme integrity of life, of
man, and of Imam Khomeini. Naturally it was
also part of God's design to enable man to
reject the more extravagant aspects of my
description of Khomeini, to even come to the
conclusion that I had come under the
influence of something evil (as the Nazis
did under Hitler, or as the followers at
Jonestown did under Reverend James Jones);
however my own confidence in the organized,
teleological tendencies of life to acquaint
me with the design of what is true, or
congruent with Plato's idea of The Good,
emphatically declared the spectacle that I
had witnessed this day was a spectacle of
holiness and truth of the very highest
order. And as Khomeini spoke I simply
listened to the rhythms, the sounds apart
from the meaning of the words. There was not
one point at which I experienced any
diminution of the intensity of his
consciousness, the fullness of his heart;
his influence upon my own nervous system
continued throughout the time that he was
sitting on the stage, and throughout that
time I felt that I had received the very
highest gift that could be conferred upon
me, given my own particular development as a
human being. Many a reader will wince at
this account and may well dismiss this book,
since it is clear that I have lost all my
objectivity, an objectivity that was more
intact up until the meeting with Khomeini.
But for me, the analysis I have given of my
experience is the most objective and
objectifying part of this book. The final
subjective experience: the encounter with
what is absolute—this, and only this can
give to the realm of subjectivity its
objective reality. I would never become a
Muslim; I would never consider all Western
culture, philosophy, art, and values to be
antithetical to life—as these Muslims did. I
would even find myself unable to adopt the
stance of hostility towards everything
non-Islamic in the world. But I would
forever honour Ayatollah Khomeini as an
absolutely pure and remarkable human being,
a human being who exalted the vision of
man's worth and man's destiny, a human being
who demonstrated the glory of God as He
manifested through the tradition of Islam.
And this was the most important message that
was given to my soul in Iran: Ayatollah
Khomeini is hated, reviled, ridiculed in the
West; it was much like the Pharisees
persecuting Jesus, mocking his words.
Ayatollah Khomeini would survive this
constant execration, and his Islamic
Revolution, whether it spread to other
countries or not, would be triumphant. Those
unable or unwilling to weep the design of
fate in lian—with its uncompromising
allegiance to pure Islam— would have to
suffer—either in exile, if one were an
Iranian, or in the West, if one were opposed
to mythological absolutism. One thinks of
Moses, Mohammad, Christ, Buddha, or
Confucius: would any of these beings
compromise with the forces of secularism or
materialist atheism? It was just not part of
the mythic response to deny the supremacy of
that religious structure, and the obedience
to that structure was the only absolute. How
would Henry Kissinger fathom the author of
the Sermon on the Mount or the author of the
Bhagavad-Gita? Kissinger was perhaps the
exemplar of the tradition of
demythification, the tradition of statecraft
built upon Realpolitik; such a
demythologizing of the cosmos and the realm
of political affairs was what had invited
the rebirth of myth, the rebirth of
scriptural, transcendental politics. The
Islamic Revolution in Iran under the
leadership of Ayatollah Khomeini announced
to the world that God still liked the myths
He had sent down to man in order that man
might know his origin and his final
destination. I was a witness to this fact on
Wednesday, February 9, 1982.
The Specific Influence of the Imam on the
Consciousness of the Author
The powerful concentration of compassion,
vitality, and, yes, bliss that radiated from
Imam Khomeini kept this writer bathed in a
purifying energy and feeling that expressed
itself in the most profound sense of
vulnerability and gratitude. I felt I was
being given more of the ocean of existence
and within the form of that ocean (as
flowing through the Imam) was the clarity of
the divine; it was in these thirty minutes
that the Imam was on stage that I
experienced all the cells in my mind and in
my heart bursting with healing love and
appreciation. I was being given everything
that perhaps could be given to someone, just
because it was only through another human
being that God Himself could concentrate his
intention, his presence, his most perfect
meaning. I felt even that my whole life was
being clarified, that knowledge about my own
destiny, my own unused power and integrity
was awakening, that I would henceforth be a
better, deeper, and more expanded human
being. The feelings that surged through me
had a strangely objectifying influence; this
was not sentimental gushings; it was as if
the Imam's wholeness was able to move
towards everything in Creation in rivers of
tenderness and meaning that opened up,
refined, and glorified the heart. The Imam
was—not out of any intention, but just
because of his pure state of being—creating
me in the image of what some day I might
become, and the sense of something divine
and absolute playing through me from the
reality of the Imam was the most sublime
experience of my life. I remember listening
to Handel's Messiah when the
Hallelujah chorus played, how that seemed as
purely sublime an experience as I had had,
given the circumstance of finding that music
expressing the highest and most exalting
emotion which one was capable of. I thought
of the moments of extreme love and surrender
to another person. I thought of the moments
when I as a father have touched the essence
of my daughter's soul. I thought of the
moments when I had triumphed in some
athletic contest. I thought of the moments
when I had received the benefits of prayer
and the audiences I had had with some
well-regarded saints. But this experience
for its sheer power and purifying fires of
feeling and meaning, coming at this point in
my life, was the most beautiful experience I
could imagine receiving from even God
Himself.
When Imam Khomeini left the stage and the
audience was filing out of the door, I just
stood and watched the place where Khomeini
had been sitting: it was radiant with the
energy that was now inside my heart. The
glow was still present and I simply moved in
the waves of this aftermath of shining
power. Inside I still felt the most perfect
and purifying tears of my life. V. S.
Naipaul could see the absurdity of a
mythology that resisted the rational,
resisted the blessings of modern, secular
civilization. He could even write
brilliantly within his bias, perhaps more
brilliantly than any mythologically-geized
writer. Still his heart would not respond to
the most innocent impulses which made Christ
declare, "Except ye be converted, and
become as little children, ye shall not
enter into the kingdom of heaven."
Naipaul would be denied entrance into heaven
because he is anaesthetized to that feeling
of life that through the Imam had so charged
my whole being. He would not see the
particular order in the air, the absence of
negativity and deadness, the presence of
total harmony and purity. For me these facts
were apparent on a physical level of
perception . For Naipul they would be mere
imagination. The degree to which a human
being acts in accordance with the laws of
Creation determines the degree of harmony
and happiness that emanates from him—or so
was the experience of the writer. But one
had to be touched by that which takes away
one's doubts about what Wallace Stevens
calls the "deft beneficence" of the
"actual"; Naipaul and Mike Wallace of CBS
(who first interviewed Khomeini after the
seizing of the hostages) had not touched
that deft beneficence; that beneficence was
deft enough to escape detection by many
intelligent human beings. Just who was
chosen to be touched by it remained—and
would remain—a secret only to That which had
created all this. Somehow one had to be
shown what God was, and then the host
advanced knowledge was how to recognize His
presence when He appeared —and when He
disappeared. God was, according to the
mystics, absolutely present everywhere, but
within the dance of relativity He was
present in varying and approximating degrees
depending upon the amount of him that was
able to manifest through a particular obJect
or being, or environment. A full realized
man like the Imam could radiate God in
perhaps his most potent and most
intelligently articulated form. Even the
Qur'an itself was one of those symbols of
God's mystery, for many persons could read
it and come to the conclusion that its
poetry was surpassable, that its message was
redundant, that its organization was
disturbingly non-linear, and yet, if God so
chose (or if one were willing to surrender
to its Arabic cadences, its inner nature)
one could find its power revealed. "The
highest share is reserved for the one to
whom it was revealed: 'The only person who
truly knows the Qur'an is he who was
addressed by it."' Khomeini was like the
Qur'an; and the recitation of the scriptures
and verses of his heart was being performed
spontaneously and continuously by Allah.
Obviously only selected creatures in this
world were capable of knowing the Qur'an was
divinely inspired; only selected creatures
in this world were capable of knowing there
was such a thing as God; only selected
creatures in this world were blessed enough
to know the integrity and the power that was
embodied in this Islamic teacher, Time
magazine's 1979 Man of the Year (Time of
course giving this tribute as it would have
given Hitler Man of the Year award at the
point that he had established his Nazi rule
in Germany just before the war).
One still, when leaving this impression,
has to face the contradictions, the
ambivalences of the revolution and the
knowledge that there were many good,
intelligent, and creative human beings on
this earth who would, with all sincerity,
oppose Imam Khomeini and has Islamic
mandate. But this did not take away the fact
that the reality of the Imam's person
eloquently spoke of a final order, a final
consum mation that made the opponents of
Islam and himself much less eloquent and
complete in their arguments, since they were
opposing that which had been blessed by the
Absolute itself, that which had created this
universe—and, I hasten to add, the hate that
now dominated the hearts of millions of
people. I looked at the space previously
occupied by the Imam and saw the invisible
reality of this universe.
Since the remains of a human being (after
he or she has left a room) who is pure and
filled with the wholeness of life give light
and energy to the atmosphere, it was
relatively easy to iind myself just
lingering with what had happened to me and
having my attention fall on the stage and
the white sheet in the chair above me.
Before this experience of seeing Imam
Khomeini I rather thought that I would find
the law of the revolution, because somewhere
Khomeini himself would reveal some form of
narrowness, some form of restriction, some
form of limitation. However, despite the
rigorous, adamant mould in which his face
was cast, despite the firm, unyielding
adherence to the absolute dogma of Islam,
there was the benediction of Being, the
benediction of the fullness of life; I was
receiving what is called in the East
darshan, the sacred energy and power that is
given off by a saint, by a realized human
being, only in this case, because of the
tumultuous meaning of the revolution (the
first time perhaps since the Prophet
Mohammad himself that a gage, a mystic had
brought about violent political change which
led to revolution and war—and quite possibly
a whole change in the design of
international politics), because of the
international consequences of the activities
of Imam Khomeini there was an additional
power and purpose in the presence of this
man. The guru or the saint most often does
not disturb the secular order, the monk, the
mystic has big followers, but their
activities represent an apolitical process
of purification and change; here, however,
although beyond the grip of what was
changing and relative (i e. being
established in the purity of Being)
Ayatollah Khomeini was leading a revolution
that touched the lives of everyone, a
revolution that went smack into the world of
Realpolitik, the United Nations, the CIA,
and the ma noeuvrings of Moscow until this
point the only challenge to the West and
capitalism had come from the doctrine of
socialism, from the atheistic Marxist
Leninist theories (and revolutions); now
religious conservatism, indeed the very
essence of "the opiate of the people," had
awakened people to the power of myth, of
religious truth. The fact that Khomeini
stood at the centre of all this, the fact
that he was the reason for all this, and the
fact that his consciousness moved in the
articulated unfolding of the intention of
Allah, meant that his spiritual grace and
power was that much more potent, that much
more 'cosmic' in its significance; here was
a Muslim holy man turning the world upside
down, demonstrating that religion can and
does play a vital role in the outcome of
world events. It was even a religious
position to denounce the religiosity of this
revolution, since such a condemnation was
itself a statement that God Himself did not
want to be mixed up with the most important
affairs of the world, or else, of course,
that God did not exist. Only Allah could
vindicate the revolution, and this could
only happen by having the Iranian nation
continue to defy the predictions of
secularized oracles, who no doubt wondered
about the threat of the Soviet Union, or
thought in terms of a democratic socialist
successor to Khomeini. Naturally if my
observations and biases are correct the
Islamic Revolution of Iran would be
triumphant in the most absolute sense: Iran
would remain under the domination of Shi'a
Islam, a whole nation would subscribe to the
values, to the principles of a major
religious system, and doing so, challenge
the arrogance of Western humanistic
ideology, as well as the levelling doctrine
of scientific, dialectical materialism.
It was one thing to stand in the presence
of a saint, a recognized Master or Guru; I
had already done this on a number of
occasions. It is quite another thing to
stand in the presence of a religious
personality who manifested the qualities of
a saint, an ancient sage, but who at the
same time was the apex of a whole
transformation in the configuration of world
politics. Khomeini's revolution would
forever alter the dialectics of world
conflict; the superpowers would continue
their ideological warfare, but one country
would remain unattached to and autonomous of
the world giants, and would create a fresh
dimension to the debate about the 'free'
world and the totalitarian world. Science
and progress had driven God from the stage
of world events; now it seemed that God
wished to return; it was through the person
and consciousness of Ayatollah Ruhullah
Khomeini that this unexpected and mystifying
process was taking place, a process that
could only be understood in the utter calm
at the centre of the Islamic storm:
Khomeini's consciousness, which manifested
as the Absolute as it, unimpeded and
unresisted, passed through his nervous
system.
After five minutes, apart from the presence
of those Revolutionary Guards who were
presently living on the premises of the
Imam's sacred territory, I was the only
member of the audience who remained in the
hall; the rest of the delegates to the
conference had gone back to their buses. It
was the grace of the situation that had even
allowed me to pause there for such a long
time and to ignore the obvious momentum of
the departing crowd, the obvious directive
to return to the buses and leave this place
of power and light. But standing in my own
appreciation, or rather, standing in the
protecting beneficence of Imam Khomeini's
Spiritual remains, I was as if invisible
until such time as my fulfilment was
complete. It so happened that the
Revolutionary Guards noticed me throughout
the speech of the Imam, and noticed the
effect this experience had—and was
continuing to have—as I stood in the almost
empty hall and just gazed effortlessly,
still with the lovely buming bliss in my
heart. My translator, Mohammad Abbaszadeh,
conferred with the Revolutionary Guards and
it became a source of some satisfaction for
them to see a Westerner moved in the
brilliance of their leader's hallowed
presence. I could see that they too
understood and felt the absolute fact of
Khomeini's real nature, that that nature had
been sanctified by God, that this fact was
at the source of the revolution; clearly
Ebrahim Yazdi could not feel this fact, and
thus his problems with the more irrational
manifestations of the revolution. The faces
of the Revolutionary Guards glowed with the
joy and rapture of having seen their beloved
leader, and yet to find that someone (a
non-Muslim) could participate in that love,
this was a moment of vindication for the
revolution, for Islam, for everything that
was happening in Iran. They expressed a
desire to interview me, and I walked over to
the wall and leaned there while they asked
me—not, it so happened, about their Imam,
but about the revolution. Well, there was a
returning surge of pure feeling that welled
up in my eyes and began again to cleanse my
heart, and I found that, quite innocently
(this was the purest emotion I had
experienced since walking through Beheshte
Zahra Cemetery two years before), that
emotion took over my whole being, and my
inarticulate reply was the most eloquent
response I could give to the question. They
could see what was still holding me, and
they silently shared that sacred consensual
validation of their leader. Finally, after
these organic, I can even say objectifying,
tears had stilled somewhat I began to gaze
expression to my thoughts, all in terms of
the experience I had just had.
The river of feeling was still moving
through my heart, but it seemed possible to
give expression to the idea of how my
experience this day had revealed the sources
of inspiration of the revolution. The inside
of the revolution was now inside me, and
although it was not in the destiny of things
that I had been born in Iran, to become a
Muslim fighting in the revolution (there
were other revolutions, non-Islamic in their
character, which were perhaps, on a smaller
scale, as necessary as this revolution: God,
it seems, expresses different tendencies in
different places; even the pardon of the
individual had some meaning in the script;
Islam was not the only way God fulfilled
Himself through man), I joined this
revolution on the level of my heart, in so
far as I knew its origin was pure, and that
therefore it needed my modest prayers. The
complex issue was to discern where God
perhaps was not about to support the
universalizing of the revolution, but I was
pretty certain I could experience the
sanctity of this revolution, the sanctity of
Islam, and the sanctity of Imam Khomeini,
without however altering my sense of the
very different destiny in store for the
Western world. And there were still
challenges for these Iranian warriors; their
inner jihad was not complete; therefore
their vision was still subject to some
distortions; they still, even in repeating
the words of their Imam, could greatly
oversimplify the forces of truth that sought
articulation in the world, and particularly
in the sphere of nationhood. They were, at
least the great majority of them, probably
incapable of the mercy, compassion, or
wisdom that would enable them to understand
how someone could be sincere and even highly
developed and still resist this revolution.
The revolution was for some; it was for
Iran; it may have even been for the Middle
East itself; this did not mean, however,
that anyone who might oppose the revolution,
or resist the Islamization of the world, was
evil. As far as I was concerned even God
Himself might not lend absolute support to
the attempt to make His Creation completely
Islamic. One thing was certain, though it
was through Islam and only Islam that he was
reviving the power of one of his
mythologies, subtly undermining the growing
assumption that secularism (Western and
Eastern) had banished him from the stage of
world events. This was the great dilemma for
the sensitive observer of this revolution:
to realize that it was a purifying miracle,
a necessary miracle, a decisive force for
the spiritual regeneration of mankind. The
Islamic Revolution in Iran would show that
it was not subject to the cause and effect
paradigm of modern international politics,
where the sense of the divine was absolutely
absent, where the notion of God was
irrelevant to the analysis of events.
Islam—through the Imam and this
revolution—was the simplest and most adamant
challenge to this idea, and its very
intransigence, its refusal to play the game
of politics according to the rules of
Machiavelli was an important statement about
the reservoirs of meaning and truth that had
slipped from the consciousness of man. The
Islamic Revolution in Iran was the most
efficient and powerful means to bring about
this recognition, this confrontation, this
awakening. Even the rise of conservative
religion in America was itself part of the
tendency in Creation at this time, although
one did feel that the evangelical expression
of Christianity was not sufficiently
archetypal or richly mythological to be
comparable to what was happening in Iran,
and the difference in leadership between
Jerry Falwell and Imam Khomeini demonstrated
God's own opinion of that difference—and its
significance.
What was important for many Westerners was
to realize that yes, this revolution was not
acceptable as a model for society in Europe
or in North America; no, the individual in
the West had become just too sophisticated,
too knowing of the inexhaustible creative
particularisms of subjective experience, of
individual expression. Islam could have,
perhaps, at the time of Mohammad, conquered
the whole world; now, however, things had
gone too far through the demythologizing of
mankind; there was some truth that had to
come out from the demythologizing, from that
self sufficiency, from that fetish of the
ego. But whatever that truth was, it had not
found its integrated system of argument that
would amount to an answer to this
revolution, in a primitive but fundamental
sense, this revolution, under the
beautifully realized leadership of Ayatollah
Ruhullah Khomeini was the purest uprising of
the spirit in the world today. The criteria
one had to adopt were of course different
from those wed to assess, say, the
Nicaraguan Revolution, the Cuban Revolution;
nevertheless the demonstration that there
was a non-material reality at the basis of
existence needed to be proclaimed; Islam and
this revolution was the means to demonstrate
this truth, and all those born within the
range where its influence was likely to
predominate were themselves chosen to come
to grips with its mythological power.
None of these things were of course
repeated to the Revolutionary Guards. To
declare there are many truths, that there
are other ways to God besides through Islam,
that Islam is a universal truth but not a
truth that would universalize its spiritual
hegemony throughout the whole world is not
the appropriate or useful truth to plead to
someone who must see Islam as the only
truth. For a Muslim, and especially a Muslim
in Iran, to spend his energy and thinking on
the idea that truth is pluralistic, that his
religion is relative to offer things, that
he should adopt a moderate attitude with
respect to spreading the truth of Islam—this
is to dilute the necessary power of his
motivation and therefore the energy
necessary to accomplish the goal for which
Islam was given to the world. That goal was
the knowledge of surrender to That which had
created this universe, that goal was the
movement, the evolution of the self towards
a greater harmony with the universe, that
goal was the achievement—in its highest
sense— that was now embodied in the Imam
himself: the eternalizing of the individual
through the expansion of the ego into the
Absolute. One must, if one is to move
efficiently towards such a goal, not doubt
the supreme efficacy of the system of
worship, purification, and action revealed
by one religion. Even Allah has willed it
this way; on the other side, after one has
touched the benediction of God, then one can
intuitively recognize that there must be
many ways to what is Absolute, as many ways
as God has manifested in choosing His
prophets, for each religion diverges at some
point from every other religion; Islam was
certainly no exception, but it was of some
significance that God was choosing this
religion through which to remind all men of
the preeminent significance of the spiritual
dimension of life; the Islamic Revolution
happened because of the stature of Imam
Khomeini. There was no other recognized
leader of another major religion—even the
Pope—who could match the intensity, nor the
magnitude of holiness that radiated from the
Imam.
What I did utter to the Revolutionary
Guards was recorded, and I consider my
statements to be the most spontaneously
expansive and satisfying remarks I have ever
been allowed to make after witnessing a
spectacle of extreme aesthetic brilliance.
One could have just watched Rudolph Nureyev
dance Swan Lake, one could have just watched
a superbly coached North Carolina basketball
team win the NCAA championship, one could
have fallen in love with the most beautiful
woman or man, one could have ascended to the
top of Everest, or one could have heard
Bach's Mass in B Minor while sitting in
Westminster Abbey—but none of these
experiences would have equalled what
happened to me this day, for to be truly
open to receive the grace of Ayatollah
Khomeini was to receive the reflection of
God Himself as He could only concentrate
Himself through the nervous system of a
human being. I received that grace and all
the attendant meanings that danced through
my mind. My life was clarified—not through
being imaged by Islam and not even by the
intention of Khomeini himself— but through
the fact that in something Absolute passing
through— perpetually—the consciousness and
personality of Imam Khomeini God Himself
could instruct me in the lessons I still had
to learn. Those instructions inscribed
themselves inside my heart, and I emerged
from my encounter with Imam Khomeini even
more individuated and integrated than I had
been before coming to Iran. The truth of
Khomeini — his state of consciousness, the
magnificence of his personal integrity—went
even beyond Islam; it was affecting Creation
on the level of the actual molecules of life
itself, and all of Creation was being
healed, but especially those persons
fortunate to be open to receive what he was.
Somehow this day had been prepared for me by
all my previous experiences, but most
especially by my association with the
spiritual and intuitive side of life. Carl
Jung, were he alive today, would have been
one of the few prominent Western
intellectuals to have recognized and
applauded the role and the integrity of
Ayatollah Khomeini, for Jung knew the
sickness that had descended into man's soul
when modern man tried to cut himself off
from the myths of the past. Jung would have
seen this revolution as the attempt of the
collective unconscious to assert some form
of equilibrium after having been so
unbalanced by the rationalizing of man's
soul, by the exorcism of God from the
universe.
Having made my comments, inspired as they
were, the Revolutionary Guards offered to
let me meet the Imam personally; now it may
strike the reader as preposterous but after
being filled up by the Imam, having in fact
received the ocean of love and power that I
had, to see him personally seemed
superfluous; I had been given (or so I felt)
all that which God would have wished for me
to receive; to meet the Imam personally was
to ask the Imam to focus on me personally; I
knew his time was too precious for that; I
knew that whatever questions I had about the
revolution and his role in it had been
answered. It thus seemed almost unnatural to
ask for a personal audience with the Imam.
Nevertheless I could see with what eagerness
this offer had been made and I realized that
even though it might be just a formality,
and even though I would not think of
pressing my individuality upon the Imam, it
would nevertheless add to my credibility in
the West, and it would enable me to see
whether there was anything different to the
Imam when he was in a personal encounter
with someone. I therefore agreed to the
tentative meeting, which was eagerly sought
by my translator and guide, Mohammad
Abbaszadeh.
We were ushered through a gate into the
pathway leading up to the house of the Imam.
We waited there for some thirty minutes and
then were invited to wait in a room within
the house itself. Taking off our shoes we
were asked to sit down, where tea was served
to us (in Iran tea is served constantly),
where various mullahs sat, also waiting for
an audience. Now here the atmosphere was
again exhilarating, vibrating with freshness
and purity; compared to the hotel it was as
if one were breathing into the exhaust pipe
of a car and then breathing the air on a
Himalayan mountain, so much did the
consciousness of Khomeini make a difference,
so much did the reverence and perpetually
charged ambience affect the environment.
There was one crudely insensitive mullah who
continued to draw the exhaust fumes into his
lungs; apparently even in the house of the
Imam, there was permission to persist with
one's addictions. But even the polluting
effect of the cigarette smoke was not
sufficient to take away the dominant reality
of the consciousness inside this house. I
closed my eyes and just experienced the
serenity in the air, and then after about
fifteen minutes (and there were some
incredulous looks by the various mullahs who
wondered how an obviously Western and
non-Islamic journalist had been permitted
inside the residence of the Imam: most
Western journalists had not even been
allowed inside Iran for the past fourteen
months; to be awaiting a personal meeting
with the Imam, well that was past all
reason—and I felt the miraculous fact of my
situation) we were told, hastily, that the
Imam had suddenly changed his schedule and
was going into the hall once again to
address a new audience of devotees, high
school students and some of the poor from
South Tehran; this would mean that we
couldn't be received in his own private
room, that we would (the interpreter and I)
have to intercept him on his way into the
hall. We rushed to the passageway which
joined the house with the hall, and were
told almost immediately upon reaching our
position, below the passageway, on the
ground, that the Imam was on his way.
Khomeini came through the doors of his house
and again there was the whirlwind of divine
energy, the swirling power of love and
solemnity that carried its intention within
a total sense of universality. He approached
me, was told by Mohammad my name and where I
was from, and his hand reached down as both
my hands went up to receive him. I held his
hand for a few moments and he sent the
thunderbolts of his immovable power into my
eyes. It was as I had imagined it would be:
there was nothing to say in those ten to
fifteen seconds when in silence I received
once again this unbounded ocean of supreme
purposefulness. He was what he was inside
the hall, only this time the universe was
closer, but it was as if seeing the face of
Jehovah in a moment when Jehovah took the
form of the mask of the human being. There
was no wish, nor intention to disturb the
wholeness of this moment of union with him,
and my individuality seemed to form in a
kind of non-anxious and harmonizing
expansiveness that could bring about no
needs. I had been filled before he touched
my hand (or rather as I grasped his hand
with both my hands); I was reminded of the
sense of eternal replenishment that was the
reality of himself as he was nearest to me.
My trip to Iran seemed to have completed
itself; I could have gone home after the
Imam had left the hall; now, having seen him
close up, I experienced that the answers had
come in the form of a steady revelation. The
Imam never really personalized himself, and
even all those who loved him and who were
with him never expected him to personalize
himself; he was universal and impersonal,
and because of this he was capable of
infinite compassion and devotion to all
those who chose to follow the path of Islam.
Even during the lecture I noticed his son,
Ahmad, would turn in the direction of his
father (he was seated just to the right of
Khomeini) and gaze upon his father with the
sense of knowledge that Khomeini was no
longer his father; Khomeini was his Teacher,
Khomeini was the source of living wisdom;
Khomeini was the embodiment of Islam. Ahmad
studied him as if to see the confirmation of
this idea of the Imam's consistent
appropriateness. He, Ahmad, had gained, from
the dispassionate equilibrium of his father,
his own beautiful serenity, and by watching
his father closely he registered the
impulses of intelligence that served to show
Ahmad the proper movements of the universe
as they might embody themselves (and did)
within a human being. It was the disciple
looking up at his Master—the Master's
closest disciple. His father had transcended
the status of father, he was the father to
the whole nation of Iran and to devout
Muslims everywhere. It was, then, this
impersonal reality of Khomeini that gave to
him the expression of supreme devotion to
God and to Islam. Mohammad kissed fervently
the hand of the Imam as he passed on from me
to extend his hand down (his left hand) to
Mohammad. It was a beautiful hand, a hand
that, however aged, still retained the
vitality of life, and was no doubt covered
with the impressions of the lips of
thousands of Iranians. To kiss this hand was
for a Muslim to receive a special kind of
grace, and Mohammad told me eagerly
after-wards that his own hand (he held it
open to me) "would never touch anything evil
or impure for the rest of my life." And when
I returned to the hotel many of the Muslims
were amazed that I had seen the Imam
personally, and they wanted to see my hand,
to express their envy and their assurance
that my hand was now considered holy!
We walked down through the alleys leading
to a street where a taxi would take us back
to the hotel; I felt the conspiracy of time
and space trying to gradually diminish my
experience; but with just the slightest
turning of my attention I was able to hold
the full meaning and intensity of it—at
least as it now translated itself into my
present circumstances. I felt how so much
tension had gone out of me, the tension
brought about by the apparent contradictions
and excesses of the revolution. I knew that
I had discovered and experienced the great
secret of the revolution; I knew that
somehow I would try to communicate that
secret in my book on Iran. That secret has
been told; it is the truth about this
revolution, but it is equally obvious that
many people will assume I have exaggerated
or that I have been deluded; others may even
feel that I have betrayed the cause of
freedom and democracy by writing as I have .
(I have friends who now are in adamant
opposition to the regime, having been close
to individuals who have been executed or
discredited or persecuted by the present
regime.) But I insist that this is the
reality that everyone must at least
consider, it may be rejected, but still the
argument must be made, and I have made it
here. And I readily confess that all my
subsequent experiences in Iran carried with
them the vision of the integrity of the
leader of the revolution, and therefore I
found a touchstone to measure and deter-mine
the meaning of various events to which I was
exposed. While I was in presence of the Imam
I had a yearning that all politicians of
note take the time to visit Imam Khomeini. I
still have that yearning. Imam Khomeini is
the most charismatic political leader of the
twentieth century—and he is much more
besides. He is one of a hand-ful of
individuals I have met who have left me
transformed. He is therein Iran supporting
one of the precious pillars of God: Islam
and the supreme truth of surrender to God.